


Stiles

by floatinginthelights



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, Magic!Stiles, occasionally some feels, typical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 00:30:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2088855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floatinginthelights/pseuds/floatinginthelights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Random pieces that tend to be from the same universe where Stiles has some magic, the Pack sticks together, and sometimes everyone is a badass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Un-proofread, sorry. I really don't know where this is headed, these are just pieces that I forgot I wrote a while ago.

Stiles learned magic without telling anyone. He figured revealing his work could only end one way: with his life in peril even more often. The pack would want his help to solve the crisis of the month (he used to say the crisis of the week, but seriously, when were things ever solved that quickly?) and he wouldn’t be able to say no. Both because he just couldn't turn down Scott and because hello, have you seen Derek's muscles? (though it didn't escape his notice that all damage Derek inflicted on him was temporary)

So he studied on his own, careful to keep everything under wraps. Once he decided he knew enough theoretical information, he needed materials. But enough comments in the locker room had let Stiles know that the pack would smell any reagents he brought home.

But the internet was a thing, and with the knowledge that the counselor was Deaton's sister, Stiles manipulated. And then he lied. He got a referral to a therapist in the next town over and let everyone know he wouldn't be around for specific times. Then he set up appointments with every mystic he could find. It was frustrating how many of them were complete bullshit. Deaton tried to direct him to people he deemed trustworthy, but Stiles didn't want to limit himself to any one discipline (and seriously, Deaton was helpful on occasion, but what was his deal?). What if he could be a great necromancer but never tried it? (He did. He wasn't.)  
One month and eight meetings, later, Stiles settled. He was both interested in and showed potential with Imitative and Runic magic. The mentors he found were willing to work with him, understanding that his priority was personal protection, and he was okay with mixing arts.

The beginning of personal protection began with understanding himself. He could set up basic wards already. But all the really powerful personal runes required an intense understanding of himself. So for two weeks he learned to meditate. Every moment not spent at school or doing homework or at pack meetings was spent trying to find his soul. During his sessions with Silvia :), he inhaled smoke from god-knew-what, and meditation became a bit easier. But some of the personal finding revolved around simply answering questions about himself. What was his favorite color? Why? How did he feel about his Dad? About Scott? About school? About sex? The questions were endless and since Stiles was determined that no one in the Pack know about his training, he confined all his work to his computer. When Scott came over, he made a joke about protecting his porn stash and spilled wolfsbane powder all over the keyboard. Scott complained and coughed and Stiles apologized and pretended to clean it up, but he also told Scott to maybe stay away from the computer for a while. 

When he could answer the questions to the extent required by his mentors (though they both warned that self-discovery was a never-ending process), they began teaching him runes. But as important as the forms of the runes was his intent and focus. He focused on life and joy and his Dad and sometimes, the Pack. He imagined medieval shields and force fields. He mastered protection circles and containment circles. He learned how to create the paste he used to draw the runes and circles and then he was ready. There was nothing more he needed to learn from Silvia or Tom. Sure, he would continue to expand his learning, but with the basics established, Stiles could learn on his own with the help of the internet. 

At first, Stiles drove out to Deaton's once a week, mixed his paste, and then painted runes across his torso. Without a current crisis occurring, he kept them to a minimum. There were a few passive ones, but mostly they required intent to activate. The most important passive rune was to protect his sense of self. Apparently it was a common problem for humans attached to Packs to lose themselves in the pack dynamic. The active ones included ones that could activate as a small force field, hide his scent, and one to allow him to ignore pain for a small bit of time. 

The first time Derek slammed him into a wall after Stiles had been initiated as a druid, he had to focus more on restraining his runes from defending him than on being properly scared. There was a half second when Derek's arm wasn't pressing quite so hard against his chest before he controlled them. Shit, he shouldn't have made them quite so active -they were almost sentient in their need to defend.  
Derek frowned then growled. Stiles tried to press back into the wall and tilted his head to the side, baring his throat. Derek lightly nipped at his throat, then let him go to slide down the wall. Stiles kept his eyes down, aware that Derek knew something was off, but not what. He painted his runes with slightly less fear next time - they didn't try to jump off his skin again.

 

The first time Stiles uses magic for the Pack (not counting at the club), he blames Deaton for everything. He prints his runes out, says Deaton gave them to him, and complains about how intricate they are as he glances to the circle on the floor and back to the paper. No one can call him on a lie because seriously, why couldn't he identify with an art that used English letters? He's not quite done with the runes when the Sprite gets there, so he just draws the rest without looking at the paper and hopes everyone is too busy not dying to notice.  
Eventually the pack and Derek bully the sprite into the circle (add about how they got hurt/sword of the sprite) and it gets banished back to Fairyland (or somewhere, Stiles doesn't really care). Everyone kind of freezes for a second, adrenaline highs suddenly unnecessary. Derek moves first, striding slowly towards the corner Stiles had cowered in as soon as he was finished with the circle. As he walks, his skin heals and bloods stops dripping down his chest. When he gets to Stiles, he crouches and captures his gaze, "Hey, you okay?"  
Stiles's gaze slowly focuses and he nods a few times. "I'm gonna...gonna stay on the floor for a minute." despite all his practice, Stiles had never banished before and wow that took a lot of energy. Derek remains in front of him for a few seconds, looking Stiles over, sniffing subtly for blood. Satisfied that Stiles isn't injured, he turns to his wolves.  
Isaac is leaning again a wall and holding his forearm. Derek approaches him, gently grips it and meets Isaac's eyes before asking softly, "Ready?" At Isaac's nod, he jerks quickly and Stiles almost wretches at the sound of bones scraping together. Isaac cries out, but mutters a 'thank you' as his bones begin to knit together properly.  
"Go home. You did good today." Stiles wants to hug Derek for actually expressing approval, but the floor still seems to be a good location. The general dismissal sends everyone drifting out of the house, though Scott waits at the door. Stiles climbs to his feet as his head clears of the buzz his magic had generated.  
"Stiles." Derek' voice causes him to stop, but not turn back. "I know you don't like helping us. So...thank you."  
Stiles turns at that. Derek is looking around, not meeting his eyes. "I don't...it's not that I mind helping keep you guys alive. It's just that I'm human. I can't heal. If I help you guys, I'm not going to live to graduate."  
Derek finally meets his gaze and Stiles reads the offer there. "No. Don’t even pretend that being a werewolf will make me safer. Scott never got shot at when he was human."  
A silent, somber nod is the only response he gets.

There are a couple of quiet weeks in between the sprite and the next crisis. During those weeks, Stiles sees both his mentors and practices actually using his magic. After he had stumbled home, it had hit him how vulnerable he was following a single banishing. So he works on building his stamina. Part of that was actually physical conditioning. Lacrosse combined with a ridiculous amount of running for his life means he isn't in bad shape, but his mentors introduce him to parkour training. He bulks up a little and then just straight up does magic for hours at a time.  
His shield runes he always thinks of as a defensive tool. But in the end, he thinks of it as a force field. So he holds things in his hand while activating his shield and floats them. He cannot manipulate the shield - that's not the nature of the runes, but it's still cool. Over time, he can hold the objects up for longer.  
When he has time, Stiles goes further. He invents runes. Everyone he talks to says that as long as his intent and energy are clear, nothing terrible should happen. They all stress the 'should'. But his magics are based on life and balance (actually really similar to the wolves - he tries to not think about that) so it's hard to create offensive magic.  
Stiles decides the only time he can accept killing is when there is no other choice - like with Peter. So he ties a fire rune to a wind one and makes the activation tie to his intent with a checkpoint for emotion. Only desperation or intense fear allows it to activate. There is no way he can test that one though so he just hopes it works.  
Stiles writes and rewrites the runes until they are seared into his mind. He notices the fire one makes him tired even to apply, so he only puts it on for two weeks before deciding it’s a crisis-only rune anyway.  
Stiles uses the fire rune almost by accident. The Pack decides to do a training exercise at a national park and Stiles tags along because he doesn't trust them not to find a nest of homicidal unicorns if left to themselves. And whatever he says about wanting to stay away from their antics, he would never forgive himself if something happened to Scott.  
Stiles waves as the pack runs off, confident they can track him when they're done...whatever they're doing. He wasn't really paying attention. He's chilling on a rock overlooking a creek when he hears the first growl. He turns slowly to face the source of the sound and is rather stunned by how big an actual wolf is. It's snarling, its teeth bared and quite frankly, horrifying. Stiles knows that he probably smells of a different pack, of a mixture of wolf and man. He immediately activates his smell and shield runs, but he can feel his heartbeat skyrocketing.  
So he does what he always does: he starts talking. "Good wolf. It's okay. I'm just gonna leave now. Didn't mean to invade your territory." When the wolf began advancing, Stiles's voice climbed a few octaves. "Can't we just discuss this? No? None of the wolves I know have any manners!" While he chatters, his mind flies. You know what he really needs? A rune that calls the pack. Like...like a dog-whistle rune! His mind snaps back to the moment as the wolf stalks forward another step.  
He meets its eyes and sees none of the intelligence he sees in the creatures that normally are trying to kill him. His voice drops and he speaks as commandingly as he can. "Look, I will kill you. I don't want to, but I'll do it. Go away." The wolf springs on the last word, jaws aimed for Stiles's throat. It's fast, but Stiles has spent the last year surrounded by magic wolves - he knows how to react. His hands come up in front of him, the heels of his palms touching. As he activates his offensive rune, his skin warms on both his forearms where he painted it. The fireball hits the wolf when it's within three feet of Stiles.  
The wolf's head takes the body of the fireball. It's movement forward is halted by the velocity of the hit and it crashes to the ground in front of Stiles.  
The smell of burnt flesh and hair reaches his nose and he retches. He carefully doesn't look at the wolf's head but checks its chest just to ensure it isn't still breathing .Satisfied it's not in pain, Stiles takes a branch and draws a circle around the wolf, etching in scentless runes after. A moment later, he adds a rune that he thinks of as invisibility. If someone was looking for the wolf, they'd probably be able to see her. But otherwise, their eyes should skip over the scene. 

Stiles starts jogging, following the river until he finds an open, deep area. He takes a moment to appreciate the spring, warm weather before stripping to his boxers and walking in. He's never sure just how good the wolf's senses are and there's no chance he's letting them smell blood on him. 

When Scott finds him an hour later, Stiles is floating on his back, singing "Call Me Maybe" at the top of his lungs. He doesn't let Scott know he was only in the water so he doesn't fall asleep and get eaten by a bear. He sleeps the entire way home. After that, Stiles never skips the fire rune. 

 

A week later, Derek climbs through Stiles's window, bleed gushing down his arm. 

"Oh shit." Stiles stares for a second, shock freezing him.  
"I know I shouldn't have come. But you were the closest. And I think it hit something deep." Derek shifts, clearly in pain, but still uncomfortable asking for help.  
Stiles jumps into action, almost happy just to be in the loop. "Dude, we're pack it’s fine. Sit down. Except yeah, I don’t really know what to do about that." His 'that' is punctuated by flailing in the general direction of the blood welling from Derek's arm. 

Derek's quick grip on his arm halts him before his nerves can make him babble. "Stiles. I'm...trying to respect your wishes. You obviously don't want to talk about or use your magic for the pack. Okay. I'm sorry for what I've done to cause that." Derek pauses and looks up to see Stiles's response. He seems frozen again, so Derek continues. "But I'm going to bleed out on your floor in about one minute. Just...just keep my femoral artery closed for a minute so it can heal, okay?"

Stiles nods silently a few times, then stands and enters his closet. Derek slouches against the wall, raising his hand to apply pressure to the wound. Stiles reemerges, holding a Tupperware container with a thick fluid inside. He opens it and pulls his athletic shorts up, exposing his thigh. There are no runes on his lower body he can accidentally draw over. The binding rune takes only a few seconds to draw, glowing blue briefly as he pours power into it. He reaches for Derek's shoulder and draws the pair rune as close as he can to the tear in Derek's skin without mixing blood in the paint. (actually, that's an interesting thought. He should ask what the effect of blood in his paint would do)

Stiles is incapable of going longer than this without talking though, regardless of his current mindset. "This is just a binding rune. Nothing to worry about. Okay, here we go." Derek remains silent as Stiles laid one hand over his on the wound and one on his own thigh, pinching the skin together. 

Stiles pictures a vein and then binds it together, using the rune to both bind the vein itself and to use the punching of his skin to bind that action to Derek's artery. 

They have to stay like that, Stiles crouched before Derek for a few minutes and the silence again beats Stiles. This is not magic that requires much focus or power, so he's free to talk. His voice is soft, almost scared when he speaks. "How'd you know? What'd I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong. You smell...different. Like magic, I guess. Like you, but also...something else." Derek aborts a movement with a gasp and grits his teeth against the pain. "It took me a while. But then last week, I was checking on you. And your heart rate spiked. But by the time I was close...you'd taken care of it."

Stiles takes a moment to mourn the wolf, but then brightens. "Hey! I found a way around that. It probably comes from warlocks running with a pack, honestly. Listen." Stiles grips his power and tugs a strand around his heart, then sets it beating a slow pulse. Derek startles, then snaps, "Don't do that."

Stiles releases the spell with a soft "Sorry. Try not to get upset. Your blood pressure needs to stay down."

"I didn’t ...I'm sorry. Just, don't do that."


	2. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pack works well together, especially when everyone knows who's actually in it.

If Stiles had his way, he'd be in Derek's pack. Not as a wolf, he's just fine as a human, thanks. But with Scott emphatic on his independence, Stiles was stuck in the middle. The problem arose because he didn't know how Derek considered him. If Stiles claimed to be pack, would he find himself on the wrong side of Derek's temper? He's pretty sure Derek wouldn't kill him anymore, but that didn't mean he wouldn't leave Stiles to his own devices when the next crisis occurred. 

Ironically enough, the problem was resolved with the next crisis. Stiles had rushed in to save Scott from his fucking Gryffindor tactics, only to end up with the knife at his throat instead. At that point, Derek walks out from the tree he's taken cover behind.

"Release him." the order contains the Alpha tones that make Stiles want to bare his throat. Since he's already got it craned back to avoid the blade, his body relaxes minutely. 

"Does the Big, Bad Alpha care about the human boy? How...interesting." Stiles hasn't managed to find out what this villain is. For all he knows, it's just a human.

"He's pack. And you're going to release him or I'm going to kill you." Derek's eyes glow red for a second, not a loss of control but reminder of what he is. Personally, Stiles doesn't think the man (creature?) has forgotten, but he can also feel the tension in the body he's held against so maybe he's biased.

The statement of pack holds such truth that Stiles inexplicably calms. He knows there's still a knife at his throat, but suddenly he doesn't feel so alone. Something shifts inside of him and he knows where the rest of the pack is. Derek's face twitches a little and he meets Stiles's gaze for a second before returning to the threat. 

Stiles feel Erica to his left and Isaac slightly behind and to the right of him. They are creeping forward, but there's just not enough cover. Derek is speaking again, repeating his threat. Stiles closes his eyes for a second, gathering a small amount of magic to his skin. When he opens his eyes, Derek's face has turned hard, what Stiles generally thinks of this I'm-actually-going-to-hurt-someone-now face. But he flicks his eyes to Stiles. Stiles nodes and activates his shield rune, throwing a hand up to force the arm and knife away from his throat. At the same time, Derek jumps forward, moving too quickly for Stiles to track. He's afraid of getting in the way, so he freezes, only moving his arms to block the knife. Derek is there in the next instance though, grabbing the guy's hand and then Isaac is pulling him to the ground, claws slicing through pectorals from behind.


	3. Hurt Derek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles are captured, but not for long.

The magic surged underneath his skin, making it tingle like everything was about to fall asleep. Derek grunted as another blow landed on his already-damaged ribs. Stiles’s concentration, rather than being broken by his anguish, sharpened. He turned the blade in his hand inward and scratched a thin line down his left forearm. There would be no scars from this, nothing to tip off his father. Provided he survived of course.

Stiles slid the knife into his boxers at his hipbone. Derek was curled into a ball, a whimper escaping him every few times someone touched him.

Stiles smeared blood on his hands, marveling at the purple his wrist was from pulling on the manacles. Then he drew the rune of angelic power onto his bare stomach. (Oh, look, his ribs might be broken.) Stiles had never drawn this rune before simply because there had never been need. Also, he wasn’t really sure what it did. Every text that references it simply said “to be used in great need to save those worthy”.

Two years ago, Stiles is sure he would not have been able to see Derek as “worthy”. But now, after understanding his past and seeing how hard he was trying to make a pack and protect them, Stiles saw him as too similar to himself to deny him.

The rune burned and the rush in his veins coalesced on the rune, leaving Stiles panting. Tension kept his muscles tight until another of Derek’s cries reached him. Then he said, “Derek”.

The power washed out of him, a gentle wave in the air that enveloped the room. When it reached Derek, he uncurled a little and the keening stopped. Stiles blinked and found himself by Derek’s side, the manacles gone. He crouched and touched a hand to Derek’s back, but he only curled into himself again, fear painted across his face.

Knowledge swept into Stiles’s mind and he breathed in deeply, “Oh.” He reached for his blood again and drew the triskele over his heart. When he reached for Derek this time, he relaxed and his eyes opened. A moment passed before the Alpha tried to speak. It came out soundless but the message was clear, “Stiles”.

“Come on, let’s go home.” With Stiles’s hand on his shoulder urging him up, Derek stood and began shuffling towards the door, keeping his eyes on Stiles. Stiles looked around to find the Alpha Pack standing against a wall, their eyes empty.

“Stiles, you’re glowing.” Derek’s voice was stronger now and Stiles thought maybe his skin was knitting together, though he was still covered in bruises.

“Yeah, I know, big guy.” Once they escaped the building, Stiles realized where they were and turned them towards town.

“Did you drug me?” Stiles met Derek’s eyes and realized he looked almost as dazed as the Alpha Pack had.

“Not intentionally. I think…I think you wouldn’t be walking right now without it,” he paused for a second. “Actually, I’m not sure how far I’m going to make it once the whole glowy thing wears off.” Derek blinked slowly, but they continued walking. Stiles was pulled back from checking behind them by Derek running his finger over the triskele on his chest.

“Mine.” It sounded like a claim, but the lack of usual Derek-gruffness threw Stiles.

“Yeah.”

A rumbling sounded down the road and Stiles tensed, his arm around Derek trying to move them back off the road. Derek resisted and grunted, “Mine. Camaro.”

“Oh, thank God. I didn’t think…” Stiles trailed off as Isaac pulled up and jumped out of the car, Scott right behind him. Stiles released Derek to Isaac and allowed Scott to support him into the back of the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short. Apparently I'm just going to throw random magic out there now...


	4. Battle-wizened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure this even belongs in this little AU. Short battle scene with a confident Pack.

Stiles drew his gun as the sounds of a fight increased. Derek had entered the fight only ten seconds ahead of him, but he'd already centered attention on him. Isaac was bleeding from his shoulder, dying some of his blonde fur a dark brown. He didn't seem badly hurt though.

Derek's arrival allowed Isaac to circle the Alpha and Stiles to enter the area unnoticed. Isaac began harrying from the side, just like if they were taking down a bull moose. Derek prowled forward, snarling in a way that still sped Stiles's heart. When Derek pounced, Isaac backed away, circling back to Stiles's side.

Stiles kept his eyes on the fight, smiling viciously when he saw Derek sink his teeth into the intruder. He considered calling Derek off and ending this with a bullet. But the rest of the invading pack was either dead or captured and Derek's wolf would feel better with the rival Alpha's throat between his jaws.

Besides, after last year's invasion, Stiles knew better than to waste bullets. There might yet be wolves unaccounted for. A sharp whine cut off suddenly, pulling Stiles from his memories. Derek disentangled himself from the dead wolf and cocked his head to the side for a moment, listening for any more enemies.

Satisfied, he threw his head back and howled the pack's victory. Isaac joined in and Stiles waited until he heard Boyd's and Erica's faint howls before joining in himself.

Once their howls faded, Derek approached Stiles, going to lick his hand. Stiles danced back a step.

"Dude, we’ve talked about this. No nuzzling before you've washed the blood off."

Derek snorted, his features morphing back to human. "Like you're not covered in blood already. Did you even leave any for Erica or Boyd?" Derek's smile was still tinged with vicious victory, but that had never bothered Stiles.

"Yes. I let them help. A little." Derek just shook his head and began walking back towards the house.

Stiles had spent way too long around weres at this point to be bothered by Derek's post-change nudity. Derek's skin was just as much armor as Stiles's leather jacket. Isaac chose to remain a wolf. He had told Stiles before that he didn't like to be human again until he had washed the blood from his fur.


	5. A little bit happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short glimpse into relaxed, fun times with the Pack

Stiles laughs as he runs, giving up a little speed to express his joy. Scott and Isaac's sneezes answer him, a growl throw in between the flurry. Lydia stands to the side, lounging near the house. Derek is slightly closer from when he had moved to intercept his Betas (read: protect Stiles), before he recognized the chase as a game. 

Stiles dances further from the Betas, pausing when they do. He shakes the porous bag in his hand, causing more ground candy cane to float into the air. He grins, but doesn't lower the bag. "Do I win?"

"God, yes. Just make it stop" Scott says. Stiles is pretty sure that Derek chuckles at the pathetic whine in Scott's voice and he turns to face him.

"Hear that, Alpha? I beat your Betas. Little 'ol human me."

Derek smirks and then moves. Before Stiles can do more than flinch, he's facing the other direction with his hand holding the bag pinned to the opposite hip and Derek's teeth set gently on the side of his neck.

Stiles does as he's been trained and bares his throat without struggling, even as Derek removes his teeth. "But a little peppermint isn't going to stop a born werewolf."

Derek's hold on him loosens and Stiles takes a step away as he turns to face the wolves again. 

He grins, "Yeah, but still. Can you imagine an Alpha sneezing? Seriously, best image." He takes a minute to appreciate the slow grins that spread across Scott's and Isaac's faces. Derek's smirk becomes easier, less scorn and more...happiness. Mostly his amusement can be seen in the crinkling around his eyes and the lack of tension in his stance. 

"But anyway, Lydia and I have an idea. Peppermint bombs. Not really sure on delivery method yet. They wouldn't be useful for anything except keeping someone from tracking. But that’s useful as a getaway tool. Which, honestly, is usually what we're trying to do."

Derek considers for a second before nodding. Stiles grins and heads back to the porch to flop down and continue his homework. The wolves go back to their training and Stiles never stops smiling.


	6. More battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have a little cute Isaac and badass Stiles, or as I like to call them: Isaac and Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for slight gore/enthusiastic violence

Stiles took a step back for every step the Omega took forward. The Pack wasn't going to reach him in time. Two years ago, he would have been terrified. One year ago, he would have tried to talk until the Pack arrived. Now, he sidestepped as the Omega lunged and sung his machete into the werewolf's side. He yelped, crashing into the tree Stiles had been backing into.

Stiles picked himself off the ground where he'd dove and rushed the werewolf. They never expected that, always thought the human would run while he could. Instead, Stiles buried the blade between two vertebrae between the man's shoulder blades. Two years ago that probably would have horrified him. 

"Well, guess I can test that theory." Stiles used his own voice to bring himself out of the battle haze. He sat for a second to ensure the wolf wouldn't get up again, then another minute because he just didn't feel like moving yet.

Then Isaac's rune burned and before Stiles could think he was on his feet, running. Having a druid in the Pack was only as useful as the wolves allowed. The tattooing had been a difficult process for them, but Derek obviously knew how it was done and with a pack around, no one had to suffer undue pain. So Stiles tied each of the wolves to himself, and through him, to each other. Now not only did they make each other stronger, one could literally pull power from another wolf. As he ran, Stiles pulled from Scott and helped Isaac heal. Seriously, was an Omega not enough for one day?

Isaac stopped pulling on the bond pretty quickly, allowing him the concentration to run faster. Everything in Stiles relaxed a bit as he registered the proximity of his Alpha. He stepped into the clearing Isaac was in and Derek flicked him a glance before returning to Isaac. But he held out a hand to Stiles. His other one remained on Isaac's calf, black running through his veins. Stiles approached and placed his face against Derek's hand for a moment. When he pulled away, Derek's hand cupped the back of his neck for a moment before allowing him to kneel on the other side of Isaac.

"Seriously guys, I just panicked for a second. I'm fine." Isaac's voice was firm, his cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment. Stiles examined his leg, but the wound was already closed. He raised his eyes to Isaac who nodded towards a piece of rusted metal lying to the side. "Hunters from decades ago left it, I guess."

Stiles let out a choked laugh and fell back into the grass, letting his adrenaline high fade.

"He was running to you. What happened?" Derek's voice was normal, not ruled by the Alpha protectiveness that kept his hand on Isaac.

"Just an Omega. No big. But hey! You know how I was saying that you should be able to heal from a knife through the spine, but would be paralyzed while it was there?" At Derek's hesitant nod, Stiles smiled. "I'm testing it right now!"


End file.
